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would give you away.’
    ‘How could they have given me away if I never had a watch?’ asked Mr Morris. ‘It was a cash transaction.’
    ‘Well, you tell me,’ said the Inspector.
    ‘All right, I will. That blighter struck me in the face, and he broke a gold watch which my wife had given me.’
    ‘Oh really,’ said the Inspector, ‘don’t waste my time, Mr Morris.’
    ‘I’m not,’ said Mr Morris, ‘it’s absolutely true. It’s because my wife had given me a watch that the jewellers might have given me away. D’you know what happened? A few days before the trial, I lost the beastly thing. Must have dropped it on a bus or something. I enquired everywhere for it, but it was no good. It seemed too bad that this bloody man should get away with it just because I’d lost it. So I decided to get another instead. It wasn’t cheating him. He had broken my watch.’
    ‘What an ass you were,’ said the Inspector.
    ‘I dare say,’ said Mr Morris, ‘but, as I’d lost the watch anyway, I couldn’t claim damages from the defendant for its being damaged. At least I thought I couldn’t, and I just couldn’t bear to let him get away with it.’
    ‘It seems to me,’ said the Inspector, ‘that that’s just what you have done.’
    It was indeed. And the unfortunate Mr Morris who’d been assaulted, not only lost his case, but he was prosecuted for perjury. He pleaded guilty and was fined £100. That certainly was a lesson to him to drive more carefully, if not to tell the truth.

CHAPTER FOUR
Chef’s Special
    This story is about food and hotels, and, if you are prepared to accept anything which is put before you in the way of food, or bedroom, or service, you will presumably not be very interested in it. I do not intend this remark as a slight upon those who do not much mind what they eat or drink, or how it is served, or how they sleep, for these are matters of individual taste. It would be just as impertinent to criticise a person for not liking music or not liking to look at pictures, or not liking to watch cricket. Conversely, there is no need for people who are interested in food or drink to apologise for being so interested, any more than the music-lover or picture-lover has to apologise. Music tickles the ear, pictures tickle the eye, and food and drink tickle the palate.
    At the moment some attempt is perhaps being made to improve the standard of food in English restaurants and hotels and possibly, but less certainly, to improve the service in those places. But, as so many people are content to take what is flung at them, and, as most restaurants and hotels are crowded, there is little incentive to the proprietors and managers of those places to do better than they are doing at present. After all, if without complaint they can serve and be paid for a badly cooked steak with frozen vegetables (through the medium of a waiter, who is not in the least put out if he spills the gravy on the cloth, or even down your back if it gets in the way) why should they try and improve their standard?
    But undoubtedly more people are taking an interest in these matters. One has only to look at the large number of food guides and articles in newspapers and magazines on the subject to realise that the gastronomic interest of the public has increased in the last years.
    One of the reasons for the low standard of some establishments is because of the very few complaints which people care to make. Most people hate a fuss. And, if complaints are rare, claims for damages for breach of contract brought by a customer against a restaurant or hotel proprietor are even rarer still. But this story is about such a claim, which came in front of me. The plaintiff was a Mr Blandish and he said that he was a journalist and that for the purpose of some of his articles he visited hotels and restaurants and wrote about what he found there without fear, and certainly without favour. According to him, the treatment he received at one particular